


Principles

by Captain_Revo



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Gen, Post-Movie: Star Trek Nemesis (2002), Romulans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-08-23 14:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Revo/pseuds/Captain_Revo
Summary: The fallout of the destruction of Romulus and Remus, and its affects on the Federation and Picard.





	Principles

Jean-Luc Picard looked up at the stars and sighed, not for the first time either. It had been 10 months since he had resigned from Starfleet, and not a day had gone by that he did not miss the feeling of being in space, exploring the unknown, and truly feeling alive. The final frontier had been his life, a starship his only real home for as long as he cared to remember. A beep from inside the house broke his longings for the old days. He turned and moved away from the open door to his com-unit on the far side of the room. A Federation News bulletin was flashing across the screen, that looked out of place in the traditional family house that stretched back centuries to a simpler time. He liked to keep up to date on galactic events now that he wasn't a part of them. The bulletin was marked as 'Red'. Something major had happened.

"On screen," he ordered the computer. The image of a Trill woman appeared. He black hair slicked back, wearing a smart blue jacket and white top.

"-situation is considered desperate. It is impossible to know the scale of the causalities, but it is believed that very few had managed to escape the disaster."

_'What the devil is going on?' _he thought to himself.

"The casualties could be as high as three billion. For those viewers just joining us, we can report that the Romulus System has been obliterated by a massive supernova emanating from the Hobus system. The planets Romulus and Remus are gone."

The force of her words acted like the supernova itself and almost knocked him off his feet. He staggered back and braced himself against a chair. Two entire planets, gone in an instant. The Romulans had been an integral part of his life for nearly quarter of a century. Sometimes friends, sometimes foe, always complicated, but never far from his thoughts. _'Three billion'. _The number seemed unfathomable, all those lives, their hopes, dreams, fears, culture, history. Gone. 

"We are also receiving reports that Ambassador Spock was in the region trying to stop of the Supernova using an experimental device. It is unclear exactly how he planned to do this but the craft he was last registered on, is also missing. The astrometric observatories on Denobula say this is unlike any supernova they have ever studied. We can now go to our reporter, Jake Si-"

"Off," he shouted. Spock was gone too. He knew it in his heart. It wasn't just pessimism either. While he had only met the man a few times, and would for any traditional reason call him an acquaintance, because of his connection to him through a mind meld some remnant of his conscious, his katra, still resided in Picard. They had been connected in a very deep way, and was happy to think of him as a friend. Through a connection that could span lightyears, though some unknown science that could only be described as mysticism, he knew his friend was gone forever.

Picard felt Spock's affinity for the Romulans after the meld, his desire to see their two races united once more, now flowed through him as well. The recent alliance during the Dominion War has eased tension, and some progress in peace talks, albeit limited, had occurred in recent years spearheaded by his former first officer Captain Riker. The new Praetor, Koval, who had assumed control of the Empire after Shinzon had been more amenable to Federation diplomats being stationed on Romulus. When Ambassador Spock was posted to Romulus it was seen as a great step forward in a permanent peace. But when Koval fell ill, the next leader was less inclined to be as open, and the hard fought peace had began to slip away. Spock had long suspected that Sela had the Praetor's ear, and had pushed him to return to a more hardline approach. Now the events of the past hardly seemed to matter. Soon only chaos would reign. Would the Romulans lash out, or would they seek aid? How would the other galactic powers react? Picard moved towards his window on shaky legs, and looked back up at the stars. Although it was too far away to see any of the terrible events, the night sky somehow felt an emptier, more uncertain place now.

It had been a month since the the fateful day the Hobus supernova had destroyed Romulas and Remus. The Empire was in chaos, and the vultures were circling. It had lost the very beating heart of its domain, and it had not taken long for systems to begin breaking away and declaring independence. The Empire was built on fear, indoctrination, obedience, and the rule of law. The people knew their place and no one stepped out of line. A system of governance that had lasted for thousands of years now lay in ruins. The Romulan fleet was stretched across its borders trying to put out rebellions and uprisings, but with no central government their efforts were haphazard and largely futile. The Klingons were eyeing several words that once belonged to them before the fall at the hands of Romulan conquest decades ago. Anyone who knew the Klingons was sure they would not stop at just taking back old territory. The Federation Council was doing everything to hold the warrior race back from launching a full scale invasion that could rip the Beta Quadrant apart.

News reports circulated almost by the hour. It was difficult to get accurate information out of the Empire at the best of times. The upheaval had reduced their usually air tight secrecy, but with so much confusion it was now difficult to determine fact from rumour. A steady stream of refugees that had either been off world, or had escaped the blast, were flooding into Federation space, causing a lot of apprehension amongst member worlds. 

Picard, wearing a simple red top and casual brown trousers, brought in two cups of tea to his tellarite guest who was sitting in his living room of his family's house in his vineyard. The Ambassador, a short, plump being with pinkish skin, and thick golden hair had told him over subspace that he sought Picard's counsel as one of the leading experts on Romulan behaviour. 

He took a sip of the tea, being careful not to have his tusks damage the glass, "It's a bit hot, and the flavour is strange."

Picard knew that tellarites enjoyed being argumentative and rude, so he paid it no mind.

"How can I help you, Ambassador Gron."

"I'll get to the point. We want you back," he said, abruptly. Tellarite ambassadors often lacked the subtle touch needed in their profession, but what they lacked in diplomacy they made up in honesty. You always knew were you stood with a tellarite.

"Back?" he said, almost excitedly. 

"In Starfleet. We have a mess on our hands and we need someone with your experience dealing with these people." Picard felt uneasy at the term 'these people' but let the comment pass. "This crisis has the entire Federation Council spooked, and the admiralty is up to their necks in putting out bushfires along the border and making sure the Dominion don't seize the opportunity, so I have been sent to convince you."

Picard felt a wave of giddiness grow in his stomach. He had regretted his decision to leave Starfleet, even though it seemed the right idea at the time. A worthy cause could be exactly what he needed. "How can I be of assistance?."

"We want you on the border," replied Gron.

"To help with humanitarian aid of the Romulan people," he said, anticipating the reason.

He snorted loudly, "Of course not. Leading a blockade of starships to stop, detain, and deport any Romulans that try to cross. You can talk to these people, tell them they can not enter Federation space, they'll listen to you. With Ambassador Spock missing, presumed dead, perhaps you are the only one they will listen to," he said, before he calmly took another sip.

Picard lowered his cup, his mouth wide open, "We're... not letting any more in?" 

"Letting them in?" he laughed loudly, "It's a damned invasion, that's what it is. We can't afford to have thousands upon thousands of Romulans and their allies on our soil. We already have too many as it is."

"Mister Ambassador, I hardly consider defenceless refugees fleeing their destroyed homeworld 'an invasion'. Let's choose our words more carefully, shall we?" replied Picard.

The ambassador snorted again and straightened his collar as if it suddenly felt too tight, "Admiral, we have a duty to the Federation to protect it. They can't be trusted and welcoming them in, however tragic their circumstances, in a recipe for disaster down the line."

Picard raised his hand, "Please, call me Jean-Luc, while my title remains honorary I don't like to use it now that I'm out of Starfleet," he said, "but back to the issue at hand, the duty we have as Federation citizens is to offer aid to those that are in need. These people need us. Would you have us turn our backs?"

"Jean-Luc, you know better than anyone what these Romulan types are capable of. The Tal Shiar have no doubt planted spies and saboteurs into these groups to undermine Federation values. If we let them in then we are endangering our citizens. That is unacceptable."

Picard was shocked that a Federation diplomat was being so uncaring. It was true that attacks by the Borg, the klingon skirmishes and the Dominion war over the last decade or so had left people more hardened and less of the open, compassionate society that he grew up in, but in the face of such a catastrophic loss of life and refugee crisis it was beyond belief that anyone could be that cold.

"I agree there are dangerous elements within the Empire," he began, "No one is more aware than I of the consequences of Romulans spies, but to turn away those in need because of a hypothetical risk is... well it's unconscionable, Mister Ambassador. Do you believe that we as a people have become so frightened, so paranoid, that we would refuse to help hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people, because a handful _might_ wish us harm?"

Gron banged his fist in the table, "They have always wished us harm. I don't see why they would stop now."

He shook his head, "Separating the actions from the rulers of a people, from that of the people themselves is fundamental. No being is accountable for the actions of another and we can not infer guilt based on race. There are many dictators and tyrants in the history of both Earth and Tellar, but we do not hold our people responsible for the actions of a few."

"Clinging to your principles will be hollow indeed if people get hurt," he snapped, his pink skin turning purple.

"If an act of violence occurs then punish the guilty as we would our own citizens that break the law, but do not condemn people because of risk. Stepping out your front door carries risk. If we do nothing then many thousands _will_ suffer, all to protect ourselves. The moral choice is clear." he said passionately. Seeing the ambassador was less than impressed, he tried to change tact to a more pragmatic point of view, "The Romulans have shown great ability to send spies into our governments and starships. If they truly mean us harm they will find a way, but I refuse to sit back and watch people suffer because they fell under the oppressive rule of those we considered our enemy."

"There's already been a spike in petty thefts and aggressive incidents across the border. It will only escalate." 

"That kind of racism belongs in the past, Mister Ambassador. Let's not resurrect it or overreact. I've heard the news reports. Federation border worlds always have higher crime rates than core planets. The recent spike is in proportion to the increase in population, but still proportionate. There is bound to be some tension, some anger and some desperation on their part. That is surely to be expected."

"Why can't they go to their own systems. The Romulan Empire covers enough territory," he said changing argument.

"You know as well as I, that many of these people, Romulans, Remans, and dozens of our subjugated species, were little more than slaves to the Imperial Senate. Falling into line rather than face the brutal consequences. They are as much a victim as anyone. Many fear for their lives what an uncontrolled military or an unchecked Tal Shiar might do to them. We've already heard of bombings against civilian targets on Rator Three."

He waved his arm dramatically, "Those reports are unconfirmed, little more than wild rumours, and it concerns me that would would side with a Romulan over your own people."

Picard straightened up, and raised his voice, "I side with my conscience, sir. You seem intent on refusing them aid. To abandoned them in their time of need." 

"And you seem intent on wilful ignorance. Retirement has dulled your senses to the political realities. Men like you would doom us, Picard. Our enemies do not play nice just because you wish it."

He took a deep breath, "I am well aware of the atrocities performed under both Romulan and Reman leadership. My crew exposed an invasion of Vulcan, I lost a close personal friend battling Praetor Shinzon in thwarting his plan to destroy Earth, but I will not condemn an entire people because of the actions of a few. I will not send them back to face persecution at the hands of the Tal Shiar, I will not abandon those in need to add an artificial sense of protection to my own well being."

The ambassador sighed loudly, "You don't see it do you. The threat they pose. When a federation citizen dies the blood will be on your hands too, Picard."

"And how many Romulans will suffer or die by refusing them entry? A hundred? A thousand?, ten thousand? Where is their blood?" he argued, becoming visibly annoyed at this conversation. 

He dismissed the comment, turning his head away from the Admiral, "The galaxies problems are not ours to solve." 

Picard took a deep breath and ran his hand across his head. He was getting nowhere. They no doubt sent a tallarite because of their intransigence. "Ambassador, there was real traction in Ambassador Spock's efforts of reunification. This tragedy could be the next step in an ultimate peace which is what we all want. Freeing the people from their oppression and showing them a better way than perpetual cold war. This is an opportunity to show compassion and kindness, not more hostility and bitter resentment."

The ambassador tugged at the tuffs of hair on his chin, "Many of the Vulcans felt Spock was illogical, that he was letting his human side cloud his judgement. They see reunification as the assimilation of their way of life to accommodate a people they no longer recognise as relations." 

"I believe that both the Empire and the Federation have never healed since the first Earth/Romulan war. The spectre of fear remains persistent and pervasive in our psyche. It will never end until we learn to live together in peace. To put fear past us. That is what the Federation is built upon, is it not? Finding common ground, and building a better future."

"The Romulans have had three centuries to build a better future. Little late now, don't you think?"

Picard looked him directly in the eyes, and very deliberately and slowly replied, "It is never too late."

The Ambassador rose to his feet, a stern look broke out on his already resolute face, "I take it your answer is no?"

Picard rose too and nodded slowly, "Correct. I would return to oversee relief efforts, but I will not return to turn frightened, scared people away. I am quite frankly dismayed that the Federation would approve of such an act. And I will be contacting the Council about this matter. Good day, Ambassador."

The tellarite stewed in his own aggression before storming out. As he reached the door he spun on his heels. "You're too late Admiral. The decision has been made. We'll find someone else."

Picard was left alone. Only the ticking of a clock could be heard in the background.

Ten days had passed since his meeting with the ambassador. It was raining outside and a chilly wind blew in through the windows. Picard sat at his desk in horror watching the news reports roll in one after the other. A blockade of starships had positioned itself inside the Neutral Zone. Violating the zone would have been unthinkable before, but now it seemed to carry little consequence. Refugee ships were being stopped, its cargo searched for weapons, its crew questioned, then ordered to return. Freighters brought frightened people back from Federation worlds into Romulan space. The Starbases along their side of the zone had been converted into temporary holding facilities. This was not the Federation that he recognised, that he had once been honoured to serve. He opened a round case on his desk. Inside was his combadge. He fiddled it around his fingers and stroked the metal face with his thumb. He placed it back in the box and closed the lid. 

Picard turned the viewer off and looked in his reflection, dark and distorted by the curved screen._ 'What have we become?'_


End file.
